Parting Gifts
by Course Jester
Summary: Takes place after 3x08, "Chuck vs. the Fake Name." Sarah has both something to say and something to give to Chuck. A little angsty, but doesn't leave you hanging. Alternate title: "How I'd resolve the current Charah mess in three scenes or less."


_So, if Josh Schwartz came to me after "Chuck vs. the Fake Name" and told me that I had to fix the current crappy state of the Chuck/Sarah relationship in just a few scenes, I might do it like this. Needless to say, you will not see anything close to this happening in "Chuck vs. the Beard."_

_Enjoy, and let me know what you think!_

* * * * * * * * * *

_**Parting Gifts**_

She leaned against a car, waiting.

The car was a red and white Toyota that bore a striking resemblance to a Tylenol gelcap on wheels. The man who drove it was Chuck Bartowski. He'd been avoiding her all week. And up until now, she'd been avoiding him right back. It had been easier than thinking about what to say to him, what to do about him. Lately, she'd been doing a lot of things just because they were easy.

The time for "easy", however, was at an end. The conversation she was about to have with the man currently locking the front door of the Burbank Buy More promised to be one of the hardest things she would ever do. She'd been watching him ever since he'd emerged from the depths of the now-dark store, and the sight of his lanky frame and soft brown hair had set her heart to racing. Fumbling through his messenger bag as he walked towards his car, he hadn't noticed her yet, and she studied him intently, trying to calm her nerves by focusing on him. She decided that his hair was too short now; she missed his curls. That reminded her of so many other things that she missed, and her heart just kept hammering away.

He was almost to the car when he finally saw her. Their eyes locked, and she felt the same electric thrill that always shot through her when their eyes met. He must have felt it too, because he stopped in his tracks, the corners of his mouth quirking slightly upward. She thought for just a moment that she might see his smile, the one that would always define him, the one that was just for her. But after one golden second, he resumed walking, his face becoming an emotionless mask.

No smile for her tonight. Maybe not ever again, once she'd done what she came to do. The thought of never seeing that smile again almost broke her. She needed to do this now, before she lost her nerve completely.

"Hi, Chuck."

"Hi." Toneless. Flat.

She moved towards him, cutting the distance between them to only a few feet. She wanted to be able to see his cinnamon eyes, because no matter what words he might speak, those eyes could never hide what he was feeling. "I thought I'd catch you before you went home. You haven't been around much the last few days."

He shrugged. "Well, there hasn't seemed to be much point in my being around lately."

He hadn't flashed in almost a week. Shaw was getting irritated, and when the two men were in a room together, she could cut the tension with one of her knives. And there was another issue between Shaw and Chuck as well; one that she suspected was doing more damage to their relationship that Chuck's inability to flash…

"Ah, Sarah? Do you...uh, does someone need me for something?"

Damn. She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus. "Chuck, I have something for you. But before I give it to you, I wanted to talk to you about...about me. About Sam."

She saw him flinch at the mention of her real name. He looked down. It seemed to her that he was trying to get himself under control, and she could do nothing but wait and hope that the explosion would be over quickly. But when Chuck finally looked up at her, she could see nothing but sadness in his eyes.

"I don't know anyone named Sam."

The words were like a slap. Chuck stood waiting, but she could offer nothing in return, no denial of that painful truth. Finally, he bowed his head in defeat and walked past her, heading for the refuge of his Herder. But something sparked in her as he went past, and her determination returned. It had taken her all week to work up the courage for this, and she'd be damned if she'd give up now.

"Samantha Lisa Houghton."

Chuck froze, his hand never making it to the car door. She went to him, took his hands in hers, and turned him around to face her. She needed to see those eyes again.

"My name is Samantha Lisa Houghton. I was born on July 30, 1980 at Good Samaritan Hospital in Cincinnati, Ohio. My mom's name was Angela, and she taught second grade. Dad, well, you know him. We lived in a little green house in Springdale, just north of the city, until mom died in 1988 of pancreatic cancer."

The words had come out in a rush. She was out of breath, her hands shaking. Chuck started to speak, but she briefly put a finger to his lips to silence him, knowing that if he started asking questions now she'd never get through this. Shoving her still-shaking hands into the pockets of her jeans, she looked into his eyes again, trying to find in them the strength she needed to finish.

"Dad was shattered when Mom died. He couldn't stay in Cincinnati. So he left with eight-year-old Sam in tow. Dad fell into the con jobs he pulled before he met Mom, and since he needed a partner more than he needed a daughter, that's what I became. We had to stay on the move, and there were new names for every new town." She paused, wrapping her hands around her stomach. Her eyes became unfocused, and she seemed to be looking far into the distance. But she snapped back after only a few seconds and started talking again.

"Then when I was eighteen, Dad finally got caught. It happened in San Diego, when I was Jenny Burton. Dad always hid some emergency money for me, in case things went bad, and I went to get it, figuring I'd take it and skip town. But that's where Graham found me."

She let out a long, shuddering breath as she finished. She knew he had a million questions, and the answer to each one would be difficult. It was worth it, she told herself. She knew that Chuck thought she'd never told him because he wasn't good enough, or because she didn't trust him or...care for him. She couldn't have that. Her silence had never been about him, just as the reason for telling Shaw hadn't been about Shaw. She sighed, and waited for the inevitable Bartowski barrage. But it never came.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Sam. Thanks for telling me about yourself. I know it wasn't easy."

She sighed inwardly, surprised but grateful for his restraint. "No, it wasn't. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But I wanted to tell you, Chuck. After everything we've been through, you deserve to know." She fell silent, and her mind retraced their path through the last three years. There had been so many almosts, so many near misses. What difference might a little honesty have made at any of those times? She drew in a shaky breath and caught his eyes again.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you a long time ago, Chuck. And I'm sorry that you found out my name from...the way you did. I'd always wanted you to hear it from me."

He considered this, a wistful little smile on his face. "So this is kinda like the ultimate parting gift, huh?"

Sarah felt like she'd been slapped again. She jerked her hand from his. "Chuck, you have _no idea_ how hard this was for me. If you think that this was some kind of...consolation prize, then -"

He cut her off, raising his hands in surrender. "Wait, Sa...m. Don't be mad, okay? I didn't mean it like that. Really, I didn't. It's just that...well, for three years I wanted to know everything there was to know about you, but you'd never let me in. And now that you've told me everything that I've wanted to know for so long, you're going to walk across this parking lot to another man." He sighed heavily. "It just seems like we've never quite been in the same place at the same time, you know?"

"I know." He was right. There had always been something in the way, something keeping them from having what they both wanted. First it was her job, then his, and now it was...everything. They'd never really gotten a chance to be happy. And that reminded her that there was something else she needed to say to him, no matter how little she wanted to bring up the subject.

"Chuck, I'm sorry about Hannah."

He seemed to be genuinely surprised. "Yeah, me too. I really made a mess of things there, didn't I? That question is completely rhetorical, by the way."

She smiled, but only briefly. "Do you wish she hadn't left?"

His answer was immediate. "No. I didn't handle it well at all, but ending it was the right thing to do. No, I don't wish that she'd stayed. What I wish is that...". He trailed off, his gaze locked on hers, an indefinable intensity in his eyes. She saw it, and she needed to know.

"What do you wish, Chuck?"

"I wish I'd never started anything with her in the first place. It was selfish of me. I knew from the beginning that it was never going to work."

"Why not?" She was puzzled. They had seemed so annoyingly perfect for each other.

"Because I knew that my heart belonged to someone else."

She fought to control the surge of emotion that ran through her. For just that moment it was as if time had reversed itself, like the past nine months had never happened. They seemed so impossibly far away from the day she'd asked him to run away with her, and she wondered not for the first time how in hell they'd gotten here._  
_

_  
_They were silent. Neither of them could look away. Chuck took a deep breath, steadied himself. "I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. Not now."

She felt the hot prickling of tears behind her eyes. "We just can't catch a break, can we? It seems like some powerful force has been conspiring against us, doesn't it?" She managed a weak smile.

Chuck grinned back at her. "Yeah, I guess so. We just need to exchange tortoiseshell combs and a watch chain for Christmas, and the irony will be complete."

She loved his smile. It was probably her favorite thing in the world, and it pained her to know that what she was about to do would make it vanish again. But it had to be done, and she wouldn't get a better opportunity than this. Her own smile fled from her face, and she thrust her hand into her pocket.

"Well, it's not a watch chain, but there is something that I have to give you."

She closed the small space between them, pulling a balled fist from her pocket. With her other hand she reached out to him, took his hand in hers, spread his fingers to lay his palm open.

He knew what was in her fist before she opened it.

"I can't keep this, Chuck. I...it doesn't belong to me anymore."

She put his mother's charm bracelet in his palm and closed his fingers around it. Then the tears came.

Chuck opened his hand. He looked at the bracelet, then at the tears on her cheeks. Both shone in the sodium glow of the parking lot security lights.

He was supposed to give that bracelet to the woman he fell in love with, to the woman who owned his heart. Well, he'd found that woman. God knows he'd made a lot of mistakes where she was concerned, but putting that bracelet on her wrist was not one of them.

No matter what had happened to them since that day in the Buy More, this was something he simply would not undo. He would send it back to where it belonged, and trust in its luck to bring her back to him. He took her hand.

"I appreciate your offering to return the bracelet to me...Sam. But I don't want it back. Instead, I want to ask a favor of you."

At that moment, she would have given him anything he asked for. "What is it, Chuck?"

"The thing is, I didn't give that bracelet to you. I gave it to Sarah. A lot of things have happened since then, and I've made a lot of mistakes. But despite everything that's happened between Sarah and me, I have never for one instant regretted putting that bracelet on her wrist." He paused, ran a hand through his too-short hair.

She stood absolutely still.

"So here's the favor. I'd like you to give this back to Sarah. Will you do that for me? Tell her that I'm sorry that I ever made her want to take it off. Tell her that the only way I'll ever want this bracelet back is if yo…is if she comes back with it."

Stunned, unable to look away from the sadness in his brown eyes, she could only nod as he placed the bracelet back in her hand. Mercifully, he took that as answer enough. "Thank you, Sam." He turned back towards his little car, started to get in. But before he opened the door, he looked back at her one final time.

"Oh, one more thing. Please tell Sarah…tell her that I miss her." He looked down at his shoes, and his voice grew softer, sadder. "Tell her that I miss her a lot." He gave her one last muted smile, then got into his little red and white car. Her hand scrabbled at the tears still on her cheeks, and she stared after him, watching his taillights as they drove away from her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Minutes later, she was still rooted to the spot she'd occupied when Chuck left, his last words still hanging in the air. For just a moment, she'd almost believed that he would come back. She'd imagined the little Herder would race across the empty lot and squeal to a stop, and Chuck would spring from the car and run back to her. But the illusion shattered when she saw the little car leave the parking lot and speed away down San Fernando Boulevard, and she finally turned away.

She looked across the empty expanse of the parking lot towards the Orange Orange. She'd left the lights on when she came to see Chuck, and now the yogurt store alone was brightly lit, the surrounding stores having closed. Shaw was waiting for her in the Castle, but she was thinking about the man with too-short hair and sad eyes who had just driven away from her. Sighing, she started walking across the dark sea of asphalt. She'd made this same walk countless times, but never before had it seemed so long.

She reached the yogurt shop, no memory in her mind of the steps that had carried her there. Her right hand reached for the handle, and as she did so the sleeve of her jacket drew back, exposing her bare wrist. Her grip tightened around the bracelet when she saw it, the little charms digging into her palm. Her heart was racing. She opened her hand and stared at the bracelet, its silver links shining in the store light.

Slowly, hesitantly, she let go of the door.

She took the bracelet in both hands. Her fingers shaking as she worked the clasp, she refastened it around her wrist. As it fell into place, she felt a genuine smile spread across her face for the first time in months. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the Orange Orange. There was nothing in that store that she wanted.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she hit his name without needing to look, the one still and always at the top of her speed dial. He picked up after one ring.

"Hey."

"Chuck? It's Sarah. Please come back?"

She could almost hear him smile. "I'd already turned around."

* * * * * * * * *

_Many thanks are in order here (what the hell, it's Oscar night). To __**Poa**__ for once again acting as my primary beta, putting the brakes on my runaway keyboard. Her help was invaluable as always, especially with the ending. I'd lost my way, and she helped me get out of the mess I'd created. It's a good thing that __**Daydreamer2578**__ is a fellow night owl, because she provided invaluable feedback and inspiration during a VERY late night writing session. I know it's well past due, DD, but here's the story I promised you. To __**mxpw**__, whose comments on the GG "Chuck" board about the manner in which the show might resolve (or gloss over) Sarah's name reveal and the fate of the charm bracelet provided the impetus for this story. And finally to __**BillAtWork**__, both for a final read-through and, more importantly, for helping me to keep my faith in the show through what has so far been a dark season. Thanks to all of these great folks. If you want to read some very high quality "Chuck" fan fiction, check out their stories. Oh, and __**Mikki13**__, too – I totally lifted the "cinnamon eyes" from her. Thanks, Mikki!_

_Thanks for reading. I now return you to your regularly scheduled WT/WT angst-fest. _


End file.
